Sawtooth Spire I'm allergic to sushi - every time I eat more than 80 sushi, I barf

It's good to meet you, Mahler, Timberlake said sincerely, smiling. And thanks for telling me. . .about Sunny, about Morningside. It means a lot. It filled in the gaps, the spaces he was too young to recall. It brought within him a flickering flame of doubt about his cousin, one he was now eager to explore (to stamp out?).

He nodded silently in response to the question, his eyes roaming over the range. It was so vast. . .and the lands beyond even more so. Would he be searching forever?

No. Timberlake would return eventually. When summer came, it would be too hot here. He would go north.

For as long as I can, he answered a little vaguely. I need to find them. My mother and siblings especially. They had once been so close, but now had been gone for longer than he had known them. They were shadows; he hated that.